


breathe into it

by weird_bird (2weird4)



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: F/F, First Date, First Kiss, Fluff and Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-04
Updated: 2018-07-04
Packaged: 2019-06-05 01:13:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15159167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/2weird4/pseuds/weird_bird
Summary: At the Fire Lily Festival, a love ripe for the plucking and a love just ready to bloom.





	breathe into it

**Author's Note:**

> to celebrate my 50th fic posted on ao3, i've written something loosely inspired by the first fic i ever posted (ff.net, 2011), updated considerably to reflect who i am as a writer and a fan now. 
> 
> title from: me.

The cityscape below smacks Toph upside the head with the characteristic cacophony and stench of too many people in too little space. The establishment of peaceful new leadership in the Fire Nation has done wonders for urbanization, apparently. “We’re here!” she yells back over her shoulder at Aang.

“Aw, the lights are so pretty,” Ty Lee sighs from the back. 

“See, buddy? Almost there.” Aang’s hand _shh-shhs_ over Appa’s fluffy side, and Appa rumbles a great groan in answer. “Wow, Zuko’s about to get the surprise of his life, huh?” 

“Wait, surprise?” Toph hisses. “You were supposed to send Momo ahead!”

“Uhh?” Aang offers like the career diplomat he is. He must yank up on the reins, then, because Appa rears up below them.

“Give a girl some warning. Not all of us are airbenders,” quips Ty Lee. Toph’s never been too sure about that with how lightly that girl walks, like she’s dancing an inch or two higher than the rest of them. “You know, I’ve always wanted to try hang-gliding, but not like thi--whoa!”

Toph digs her hands hard into Appa’s fur as he barrel-rolls for the ground. There’s a loud squeak and muffled thud, which is probably Momo landing on Appa’s head to cling for dear life, too.

“O-kay, guess we’re crash-landing in Zuko’s courtyard!” The reins flick, but Appa’s grumpiness overpowers all commands. “Brace, three, two--”

As a preeminent politician in Ba Sing Se, Toph accompanied Aang to the outer colonies to help settle an intra-nation land dispute. Aang’s still-mandated, still-unnecessary bodyguard this time around was Ty Lee, invaluable as a former Fire Nation native and current Kyoshi warrior of the Earth Kingdom. 

Invaluable as a perky little pain in the butt, is Toph’s private sense of things, but hey, opinions, everybody had ‘em. 

Their mission actually went successfully, but of course, they were subsequently blown severely off-course. 

And at this point, Appa’s more weary of flying than the four of them put together.

"--one!”

When the screaming stops, Toph swings herself off of Appa and hits the ground. She takes a long moment to kiss the cobblestones, stops short of slipping them tongue, before she stands and straightens her dust-coated travel coat. “We seek an audience with Fire Lord Zuko and care for our companion.” Reaching around behind her, she pets Appa’s side soothingly.

“Well, the Fire Lord will have to be informed--” pipes up a woman.

“Don’t tell me, lady,” Toph says with a sigh, “just _do_ it.” As the woman scurries off, she shouts, “Thank you!” at her back, which makes her break into an outright pelt. Well. Honey and vinegar, carrot and stick, all that. Yeah, Toph’s pretty good at this.

Brushing off her arms, she rests her hands on her hips. The courtyard’s a roar of scent--spicy cooking, burning incense, turtleducks--and noise like a microcosm of the city they experienced from above. 

She can hear a whole lot of bending and scraping over Avatar Aang, Aang’s too-polite brush-offs, and a breathless Ty Lee (“Oh my gosh, I went to the Royal Fire Academy, _too!”_ No, your daughter wasn’t my year, but maybe she knew my sisters?”). 

“You!” Toph sure hopes she’s pointing at somebody and not at nothing. Boy, wouldn’t it be embarrassing to see the looks on their faces. “Get this bison a doctor!”

“Thanks, Toph,” Aang says at her elbow, and she pats his arm.

“Avatar, Schmavatar, am I right.” Nowadays, she’s actually gotta reach up to him more--he shot up like a weed in their teens, and now into their twenties, he’s not built like a tank or anything, but he’s pretty substantial. Still an airhead. “Yes, thank you--gently, he’s not a pile of wood!-- _thank_ you.” She crosses her arms across her chest contentedly when she hears Appa being guided away with care. “C’mon, you can see him when he’s stabled. Let’s go get your Fire Lord.”

“He’s not my Fire Lord,” Aang answers distractedly.

“Your, the, whatever.” She tugs at his arm. She’s not here to debate the semantics of whether or not Aang and Zuko are secretly a little obsessed with each other. She’s not saying they got blown towards Capital City on purpose. She’s not saying Aang’s not an airbender, either.

Aang resists, Momo chitters above their heads, and Ty Lee chitters to their left, “We’re seriously in time for a Fire Lily Festival?”

When Aang tugs free and slips off into the crowd, Toph just throws up her arms and shoulders through into the palace herself. She can’t hear the footsteps of the woman she sent. From her last visit, though, Toph can navigate the twisting corridors by the sound of the floor and walls as she walks and taps her way onwards. 

In not too shabby time, she winds up at Zuko’s private apartment. The second she steps up, the guard gulps and sweeps aside to let her past.

Nice. Never let it be said that the Ember Island Players did nothing for them.

“All the doctors and all the poets of the world haven’t yet found a cure for the condition that ails you, nephew.” That’s Iroh’s tea-smoothed chuckle. “But the first step to letting go of your feelings is to _accept_ them. When you lock eyes, when your arms touch, how do you feel? Hold that feeling in your heart. And think, with your heart, would it be so wrong to feel such a thing for the A--”

Zuko cuts across tersely, “Someone’s outside.” Damn those combat-sharpened reflexes.

The doors blast open, and Toph tries on an innocent smile. “Hiya.”

“Toph!” A big gust when Zuko sweeps forward in his robes, but probably to their mutual relief, he thinks better of the hug and goes for the classic double-hand-on-arm squeeze instead. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

“‘Sup, Sparky.” Toph bumps his fist. “We weren’t expecting to be here, either. Some heavy winds hit us on our way back from the outer colonies. Uh, me, Ty Lee, and Aang,” she clarifies craftily.

A clearing of the throat. “Aang’s here?” Another. “The Avatar--and his friends, and my friends, are welcome at any time!” He claps her on the shoulder again. Okay, overkill. “Have they been shown inside yet?”

“Nope!”

“What!” Zuko’s a man of action, which she’s always appreciated. He begins to storm off before he whirls around on his heel. “So uh, how much of that did you hear?”

“Didn’t hear anything,” Toph drawls. “Why? Should I have been listening?”

“Oh, nah, just some, you know, uncle-nephew banter,” Zuko says in dismissal.

Iroh walks past them. “I’ve never bantered in my life, and I don’t plan to start now. Nephew.”

She’s never heard him sound less impressed. “You’re a stand-up guy, Uncle Iroh.”

“It’s lovely to have you with us again, Miss Toph.”

When Iroh’s footsteps fade a reasonable distance, Toph turns on Zuko. 

“There was nothing to hear,” Zuko tells her, trying and failing for a balance between frosty and hasty.

She taps her foot on the ground. His heart’s going crazy. “Sure didn’t sound like nothing.” Time to gamble. “Just so you know that I know--I know.”

Toph could swear she hears his heart stop. “You _can’t_ tell him.”

Boom. A grin spreads over her face, and now, she’s pretty sure she hears his heart sink. “Actually, I didn’t know,” she informs him happily. “Thanks for telling me, though! I’ll go give him the good news.”

“Wait!” Zuko grabs for her arm. “Please. You can’t.”

“I can and will.” Toph draws herself up to her full height, and couldn’t it be an inch or two more? “Give me a reason why I _shouldn’t.”_

His swallow’s audible. “He doesn’t know.”

“I told you, I know.” She repeats, with more emphasis, _“I know.”_ When Zuko remains in stubborn, stony silence, and boy, does she know stony, she smacks her forehead. “Fine! But you tell him.”

“Okay,” Zuko agrees immediately.

“You’re not gonna tell him, are you.” Toph shakes her head as she turns to lead the way to the courtyard to collect their wayward morning people before the night stretches too thin.

Falling into step with her, Zuko agrees, “No way.”

She sure did try.

“Zuko!” Aang’s voice echoes joyfully around the courtyard. Light, fast steps, and Aang launches himself at Zuko. 

Zuko grunts, stumbles, but he seems to set Aang down without harm. “Aang.” The way he says his name--it’s so _affectionate._ Unbelievable. A rustle of clothes suggests that he _doesn’t_ rethink hugging him. “How are the four elements treating you?”

“Oh, you know, they’re weathering me away.” It’s _not_ a good joke, and Zuko leads him right up to it every time. Toph shouldn’t be enabling the enabler. But here she is, Toph Beifong, love doctor. Damn it.

“Come inside,” Zuko urges. “Tea? Dinner? You must be hungry.”

“Zuko, we’d love to, only…” Ty Lee bounces up on her toes. “It’s the Fire Lily Festival!”

Zuko just sounds disgruntled when he says, “Again?”

“We have to go! I haven’t been around during fire lily season in years,” Ty Lee says wistfully. While Ty Lee’s not a bender, she must still have a deep connection to the land that gave her life. It occurs to Toph how difficult it must be for her to live somewhere else season after season, smelling their spring in the air and hearing the crunch of their frost, foreign flowers brushing her fingers.

Aang’s stomach growls loudly, and Zuko’s laugh sounds enamored even of that.

Give her a _break._

“There’ll be food there, right?” Aang asks. “I should check on Appa again.”

 _”So_ much food,” Ty Lee promises.

“I can check on Appa and meet you guys outside,” Zuko suggests. Guy probably needs some time to collect himself. Hopeless. “If that’s okay with you, Toph?”

“I like food, I like flowers.” She shrugs. She’s woman enough to admit that. “Let’s do it.”

Ty Lee bounces over to her, and then there’s an arm threading through hers. A _wow,_ muscular arm pressing up against hers. 

“I think we should _both_ check on Appa,” Aang argues. Why is this Toph’s _life._ “Then we can both change clothes, too.”

Affronted, Zuko says, “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?”

“It makes you look stuck-up!”

“No offense, Zuko,” Ty Lee says very delicately, “but when the monk has better fashion sense than you, you know you have a problem. No offense, Aang.”

“See! You need to dress like you’re going to a party and not a funeral.”

True to life, Toph thinks, but she lets the two have it. Defeated, she nudges Ty Lee. “You wanna change?”

She takes a loud sniff. “Nah, I’m good!”

Toph snorts and then surreptitiously sniffs herself, too. “You don’t wanna wear, I don’t know, party clothes?” Ty Lee seems super excited about this festival. If they’re going, the girl might as well have a good time. Toph’s heard dressing up’s how some people have a good time, anyway.

“Nah. We look good.” Ty Lee squeezes her arm in hers before she drags her off with force.

Exiting the palace grounds, they bump into an increasing number of people. Ty Lee seems to steer them around knots skillfully. The smell of hot, greasy street food grows stronger.

Ty Lee hauls them to a halt and jangles around in her pockets for a while until Toph slaps a couple of coins into her hand. While Ty Lee chatters to the vendor, Toph turns herself the other way, bare soles on the ground sensing the thronging around them. A balmy wind stirs her face, and she sighs with contentment.

“Hey. Try this.” Ty Lee hands her a stick. 

She can feel the weight of whatever’s wrapped around it, so Toph reaches out and tries to pinch off a piece.

“Nuh uh.” Ty Lee tugs it back out of her grasp.

“What _is_ it?”

“It’s _good._ Just try it. Trust me?” Ty Lee’s long hair brushes the side of Toph’s neck, and just to cover for her shiver, Toph gives in and chomps down.

It _is_ good, some kind of savory roasted meat that fills her growling belly. Well, Toph never looked meat in the mouth. 

“How is it?” asks Ty Lee eagerly.

Toph grunts through her mouthful.

Ty Lee giggles, satisfied, and buys one for herself.

Traveling makes companions out of acquaintances pretty fast; they wander on, both chewing in appreciative silence. As they walk eastward, the sinking sun on Toph’s cheeks, they hear boisterous music. Rhythmic thuds echo up Toph’s legs, and the boom of a drum beats in her chest. She can’t help but tap her foot.

 _”Dancing!”_ Ty Lee claps like she’s never heard of such a thing. Toph’s got a bad feeling about this. “Toph…”

“I don’t know…” Toph edges backwards and bumps right into Ty Lee.

Her arms go around her waist as they collide, and while Toph’s considerably thicker just about everywhere, they don’t call them Kyoshi _warriors_ for nothing. Her chest presses at Toph’s back and Toph, blushing hard, ducks her head as Ty Lee whispers, _”Please?_ One dance.”

Toph’s mouth sets flat as a badgerfrog’s. “One.” 

“You’re such a team player, Toph!” Ty Lee says cheerily. Just the shout of _Toph_ must draw attention--the back of Toph’s neck prickles, and a wave of whispers sweeps through the crowd.

Great, now they have an audience. Yep. Team Avatar. Perks.

But she already said yes. So Toph takes Ty Lee’s hand and draws them through the parted crowd, letting Ty Lee stop them at what seems like a good spot.

“And a one, two, three, four!”

While Toph isn’t as light on her feet as some, she’s court-trained, and more than that, she knows how to _move._ The jangling and drumming carry her feet quick, Ty Lee’s hands resting on her arms as they dance around each other and come together, her breath close.

Grabbing Ty Lee’s hand, Toph twists her around and spins her back into her chest, their feet-tap-tapping inches apart. She spins her again, arm straining as she dips Ty Lee low. And the crowd goes wild!

Ty Lee laughs, and even Toph cracks a grin before she has to concentrate on the increasing tempo, juggling her knees. Her hand rests on Ty Lee’s waist, Ty Lee’s up-down-movement making her palm slip up the hem of her pants to the bare curve of it. Because when will this girl cover her stomach when she’s not in uniform, right? When the music changes again, Ty Lee sways back into her, slow. Oh boy. Ty Lee bounces her hip in rhythm, twice, and Toph squeezes her slender waist with callused fingers just once before she takes her hand and spins them face-to-face again.

The dance gets even more complicated, and she listens to Ty Lee’s lead, kicking in and out, both spinning circles around each other. She dips Ty Lee almost to the ground, using her judgment carefully, and then sweeps her into another spin. 

“You should come to a Kyoshi Island dance-off sometime!” Ty Lee shouts above the beat.

“Not on your life!” Toph shouts back and dips her again.

The music gets faster and faster and _faster._ Their fingers twist above their heads and out to the side, and their movements blur together, weighty travel skirts and pants slapping their legs, and just when Toph thinks she’s about to wipe _out,_ they finally end up face-to-face, palm-to-palm.

And that’s when the music s-l-o-w-s all the way down. 

Okay. That’s enough.

Ty Lee’s overskirt brushes Toph’s hand as she curtsies, and Toph dips into several bows to the crowd aimed in various directions. The clapping continues, but under it, she can hear people filtering back onto the cleared cobblestones.

Strings get tuned and plucked, and the thunder of the drum starts to sound more like the beat of a heart. From the left, a sweet voice picks right up into a classic love song, probably older than the four nations.

“Awww,” Ty Lee coos at her right. Toph can just imagine her clasped hands. “So _sweet.”_

“I said _one_ dance,” Toph reminds her warningly. She wipes the sweat from her brow, pushes her bangs out of her face, and starts trying to get her breath back. Oof, that’s a workout right there. Respect to all professional dancers out there. “Upheld my end of the deal.”

“And what’s my end of the deal?” Ty Lee wonders.

“To make me stop dancing!”

“I’m not _making_ you do anything…” Her voice trails off. Presumably, she’s taking in the sight of everyone stepping out and pairing up. “I was just saying. It’s cute. It looks fun. And you had fun, right?”

Toph taps her fingertips on her crossed arms. “I’ve had worse.”

Shrugging against her shoulder, Ty Lee tells her, “We either gotta dance, or we gotta get off the floor.”

“Fine!” Toph huffs and pulls Ty Lee’s hand into hers again. “I can’t believe you’re making me do this.”

“I’m not.”

“Whatever.” Toph hesitates before she rests her hand gingerly at Ty Lee’s waist again.

With no such qualms, Ty Lee drapes her arms around Toph’s neck, humming along with the music. “Don’t you think it’s romantic?”

“Sure is lovey-dovey.” Does she just have that kind of face? Women are always doing this to her. Toph has tried with her girlfriends, all right? She just doesn’t have a romantic bone in her body. She’s--she doesn’t know, _practical._ She wants someone who can have fun and fight good.. 

Ty Lee leans into her. “Just relax, yeah? It’s not a big deal, I promise.”

Toph doesn’t like being soothed, thanks very much, but the hand rubbing her back _does_ feel good...Hand in Ty Lee’s, trying not to think about it, she turns them slowly in place to the old tune.

 

“You’re not done dressing?” 

Startled, Zuko drops his comb.

Aang. 

The surprise visit still feels like a _surprise._ He almost doesn’t expect to see him there when he turns, smile soft, and meets his teasing grin.

Sometimes, he dreams of Aang.

Sometimes in his dreams, Aang is how he _was,_ when Zuko was chasing him or when he caught him and found something he never expected--but Aang how he is...The years have given him height and build. Wisdom has edged the baby fat from his cheekbones. His eyes look old, but only until he smiles. 

Zuko’s pricklingly aware that Aang is bare-torsoed, the blue arrows on his skin rippling with the movement of muscle. The flat planes of his stomach as he idly scratches it, once the gesture of a child, now...something different to Zuko.

Regaining self-consciousness like he’s been doused in ice water, Zuko snaps his eyes up to meet Aang’s. Against his expression of gentle amusement, Zuko stammers, “You’re not dressed, either.”

Aang lifts the arm draped with his discarded, dusty clothes. “I thought I could borrow something. I feel like I brought the entire Earth Kingdom in my pack.”

“Uh, yeah. Have at it.” It doesn’t need to be said that Aang can have anything of Zuko. Aang already has something he never asked for from him, after all. 

Zuko stares at his reflection in the mirror and just closes his eyes. Right now, he cannot think of the ache of his heart. Time enough for that when they have distance between them and all he has of Aang are occasional but heartfelt letters. 

Today, he should spend time with his dearest friend and think of nothing more and nothing less.

“You should leave your hair loose.” A casual arm brushes up against his back, and he tenses up under his embroidered robe, and then Aang’s hand, light as air, pulls the crown from his head.

Black hair drops abruptly around his face. Pushing it back with both hands, Zuko looks over at Aang, who only smiles again.

“You look good,” Aang tells him, voice even gentler than usual, much _deeper_ than usual. “You look--” He lifts a shoulder. “Like yourself.”

“This is who I am,” Zuko says. It’s not that he’s trying to be a downer; it’s more that he consistently brings that to the table just by being himself. “I am Fire Lord Zuko. All the time.”

“Hey,” Aang says, frowning, “I _know._ And I’m proud of all you’ve accomplished.” Opening Zuko’s wardrobe, he studies him from past the polished edge of the wood. “I’m just saying. Sometimes...you can let your hair down.” He shrugs one shoulder.

“You’ve taken to your destiny well.” Zuko shouldn’t talk about time to Aang, who’s as bound in it as any living being could be. He studies the grain of the vanity as he unbelts his robes, letting them thump onto the chair.

Aang huffs a laugh. “I don’t know. I still feel like that kid, climbing out of the ice.” He tosses over a light tunic, and Zuko catches it.

“Whatever you feel like, what you are is an amazing leader. Exactly what this world needs right now.” Embarrassed at his candor, Zuko ducks his head, fiddling with the fine fabric of the shirt. It’s embroidered in delicate yellow, far lighter than his royal robes. No wonder Aang chose it.

He can feel Aang’s eyes on him. “I never wanted to be a leader.”

“And maybe that’s make you so suited to power.” The firmness with which he says it surprises even himself. To take the attention off of his grandiose statements, Zuko clears his throat as he lifts his shirt.

Not taking the hint, Aang keeps staring at him, impossibly grey-eyed..

“Turn around,” Zuko orders.

“But you’re shirtless already.” When Zuko doesn’t budge in his insistence, Aang laughs and covers his eyes with his hands like the child he isn’t anymore before he turns around to face the wall.

Zuko takes that moment to collect himself, straightening out his tunic and smoothing it down his front. He looks up at the ceiling and just breathes for a moment. He can handle this. He’s known him how long? These aren’t new feelings, either. But as the years roll on, they feel ever the more urgent. “You can turn around again,” he mutters.

Aang wiggles into his own tunic. “You look great.” Reaching up, he smooths Zuko’s hair out of his face, and Zuko white-knuckles his dresser as un-obviously as he can.

“Thanks,” Zuko chokes out, the word too-loud, like he’s trying to drown out the _kiss him kiss him kiss him_ chorus singing in the back of his head.

Coming to stand beside him, Aang gazes at their reflection side-by-side. Zuko’s clothes don’t hang on him the way they might have had he borrowed them when they first became friends. In fact, it might be the most well-fitted thing Zuko’s ever seen him wear. Of course he looks good in Zuko’s clothes. Because the universe really does hate him that much. Just the way it’s meant to be.

Aang studies their reflections in the mirror for a long time before he whispers, “Do you ever think about Roku and Sozin?” 

Zuko’s eyes widen, and out of his peripheral vision, he sees Aang studying the side of his face with the kind of intensity that used to surprise him. 

He does think about Roku and Sozin. He thinks about the spirit forces that shape their lives, the stories they’re reliving right now. His only answer is a nod.

“We’ve already taken a different path than they have.” That hand that commands the winds like breathing rests on Zuko’s arm, the blue arrow flexing as he squeezes him. Without Zuko’s fussy robes in the way, he can feel the staff-calluses on Aang’s palm.

Zuko pushes his hair back out of his face and turns to face Aang. “We have peace,” he agrees. 

Aang’s other hand comes up to rest on his arm as well, and they smile at each other like that for a while, the moment long and golden as a summer evening. 

“I was thinking about the dragons the other day.” Zuko’s voice is hoarse. Years onward, the memory remains potent. Their visit to the first firebenders was the most potent, profound connection he experienced until then or since with himself, with his element, with another human being. 

“I dream about them sometimes.” Aang’s thumbs rest along his arms. “It’s a good dream.” 

Zuko’s head bends forward, and their foreheads don’t touch, but it’s a very near thing. 

“Do you think we could go back someday?” Aang wonders. “I don’t know where you would find the time--”

“Yes!” He shakes his head. “Yes. I want to. Aang,” Zuko says, almost laughing, self-consciousness slipping away into exuberance, “if you can find the time, I can.”

One of Aang’s hands has to leave his arm to rub his nape. “You think so?”

“I _will._ Seriously,” he assures him. 

“Cool.” Aang nods to himself. “Cool.” His beam doesn’t even pretend nonchalance, though.

“Hot, actually,” Zuko deadpans, and he deserves the well-placed elbow for that one, but even a jab into the soft spot under his ribs can’t dim the grin he can feel on his face.

Back then, when they went to find the first firebenders, he didn’t feel for Aang as he does now. Were Zuko to trace back his own footsteps, though, to see where his heart has come from and where it has gone--he does not yet know if he goes alone--perhaps that was the first step. 

In the library, reading the letters Sozin never sent to Roku, though, he sometimes thinks that he was set on this path before his birth, that it was walked in another lifetime.

“Should we head out to the festival?” Aang suggests, and Zuko nods and follows. 

As they head out of the palace, Aang spins marbles in his palm, around and around. Their curved surfaces reflect the orange-red of sunset, the same color as the fire lilies being sold at every makeshift stall.

The marbles catch the eyes of children, but it’s the arrows that hold their attention.

“Avatar Aang!”

“It’s the Avatar!”

Aang looks slightly rueful, but he drapes an arm around the shoulder of a small boy and offers him one of the whirling marbles--floats it right over to him until it taps off the end of his nose and falls into his waiting palms. The boy all but shrieks with delight, and with his poor mother apologizing profusely to a nonplussed Aang for her son’s disrespect, he closes his little fist around the marble and runs off.

“No, no, I wanted him to have it--oh, did you want to see, too?” He kneels to show the remaining marbles to two tiny green-eyed girls, twins, maybe. They each run off with a marble in hand, too.

More kids clamor at his heels, and Aang has to spread his hands helplessly. “Hey, hey…” He makes a playfully quelling gesture and calls, “You know what they say! The Avatar’s losing his marbles.” Aang looks around. “Huh? Huh? Anyone?”

There’s a smattering of giggles, though that’s probably more for the Avatar’s sake, how adorable Aang he is when he makes a bad joke (what, he is!), or maybe simply the awkwardness of the moment. Just anything but the…“joke.”

Refusing to be charmed, Zuko shakes his head. “You’ve been spending too much time with Sokka.”

Aang’s hand falls between his shoulders, and he steers them onwards, making small talk with the citizens even as they try to move through the crowd efficiently. Technically, Zuko should have a guard, and his advisors are gonna skin him when they find out he doesn’t, but what threat can’t the two of them handle? Besides Zuko’s advisors.

When he gets the chance above the noise, Aang turns to Zuko and says, “Actually, I haven’t been spending enough time with him.” He sighs. “We’re all so scattered now. I really enjoyed hanging out with Toph on this trip, though. Wish you could have been there.”

Zuko bites back the _next time,_ not wanting to make a promise he can’t keep. If there are things worse in the world than seeing hope dim in Aang’s eyes--well, there are worse, but he can never think of them when he lets him down. “How was working with Ty Lee?”

“She’s a lot of fun, too,” Aang enthuses. “I mean, we have our past. But so do you and I.” He shrugs. “I think we have a lot in common.”

Zuko nods. “She was more my sister’s friend than mine.”

“Hey, isn’t that her over there?” Aang’s indicating the dancers.

When the crowd parts, Zuko spots her brown hair swinging, and to his surprise, he sees Toph with her. That pretend scowl’s one of the weakest he’s seen on her, and Zuko of all people knows what for what.

“Uh...Toph had a lot of fun with Ty Lee in the outer colonies, huh,” Zuko comments, lips twitching.

“This is news to me, actually.” Aang hums when he watches them. “Good news.”

“Would you ever have imagined, though?” Zuko smirks over at Aang, and Aang matches it.

“Honestly, nothing surprises me these days.” 

Zuko snorts. Strains of a very old, very romantic song reach his ears. 

Aang whoops, “Sweep her off her feet, Toph!” and Toph goes _red._

Before Toph can retaliate, Aang grabs Zuko’s hand and tugs him onwards at a run, cackling. Zuko can’t help but be swept up in it.

At last, they slow to a stop, breathing hard--they’ve come to a dead end. Unless they want to take a nighttime swim. They’ve approached the edge of the artificial lake, a Fire-Nation-funded symbol of peace and cooperation completed by a coalition of benders from three nations--there’s an ever-burning lamp in its center and beautiful stonework along the sides, not to mention the contribution of waterbenders, who found a spring source with which to feed it.

“The Lake of Harmony.” Aang lights up at the sight of it. Zuko knows just how much he loves the idea; letter after letter, he begged for updates on its progress. Sweeping his hand in a generous gesture, Aang gusts wind over the surface of the water, ruffling it beautifully. The waves wash up against the side of the lamp without threatening in the least to put it out.

As lovely as it was, both aesthetically and symbolically, Zuko gently stays his hand. “Wait. Look.”

People with baskets full of trimmed fire lilies fan out around the lake. As the last of the day’s sunlight vanishes into the sky, they begin to float the fire lilies out to the center of the lake. The dusk breeze whorls them on the water. At the center of each cut flower is a tiny candle, just small enough not to weigh down the lily.

“Lighting them seems tricky,” Aang ventures.

Zuko sets a hand on his shoulder before he can think better of it, and he freezes for a full second when Aang sets his hand over his, holding it there. “I--uh--it is,” he says lamely. He _usually_ comports himself with more dignity than this. “Um, keep watching.”

Aang drops his smooth head to rest on their joined hands.

Aang’s is a _bold_ display of affection. But. The descending night makes them indistinct. The Avatar and the Fire Lord. Were it news, it should be handled with more caution than this.

Willing his heart to slow--Toph is probably collecting blackmail material this minute, Zuko thinks darkly--he watches the familiar sight of men and women stretching, going through basic forms. They whisper to each other, preparing. While it’s playful, it _is_ a kind of competition.

After furtive selection amongst themselves, the first victim is pushed forward. Pulling their arms back, they draw fire from the lamp at the center of the lake, holding the power between their palms. Then, as delicate as anything could be, they direct the fire in thin tendrils through the air, trying to catch each wick without the petals flaming or the spark being doused. 

Calls of disappointment, chased by renewed encouragement, rise from the gathered firebenders as the first flower crumples and burns. The second and third follow its fate. Finally, on the fourth, the wick catches, and the flower floats across the water, carrying precious light at its center. They’ve all hardly finished cheering when the Lighting of the Lilies begins in earnest.

“Wow,” Aang breathes in Zuko’s ear. He slips away from Zuko to rest on one knee in front of the water, watching the blossoms light up and bump their way around one another to the center of the lake. 

Missing his warmth, Zuko joins him. There are many Fire Lily Festivals, a patchwork of local traditions--every village of the Fire Nation seems to celebrate theirs in a different way, on a different day, and many villages are represented in the capital. Zuko can’t possibly attend all of them, and he tells himself it doesn’t matter because they get old.

Honestly? They _don’t_ get old.

“Zuko, are you going to do it?” In the amber firelight, Aang’s face shines back at him.

He considers it. Zuko remembers that time he secretly lit lanterns for Jin. It’s been a while since he’s tried at the Fire Lily Festival, too, not since the year he became Fire Lord. Then, his talents were fresh-edged with the teachings of the dragons. Still, he tries to keep his bending sharp. And, well, it is a chance to show off to Aang, isn’t it. Taking in a breath, he extends a hand to him. “If you do it with me.”

Aang’s eyes light up like a lily, and he squeezes his fingers tight. “Absolutely, yes.” His enthusiasm floods Zuko with fondness. It’s so easy to be around him, so good. A sweet little hurt.

“Okay. So, it’s kind of tricky--”

Aang’s already jumped ahead, his hands moving through one motion before Zuko catches his wrist, places his palm against his, already hot at the center. 

“Where’s your patience, pupil?”

He snorts a laugh. “Sorry, Sifu Hotman.” He dips into a bow. “Teach me.” 

Wow, does that have a different feeling to it than when Aang really was his student. Zuko goes right ahead and takes the bait, wrapping his arms around Aang and guiding his arms. “Okay. Focus just on the flower, just on its center.”

Aang braces and--instead of controlled flame, produces a big puff of air that extinguishes three flowers. He winces.

Lucky him. The accidental airbending isn’t caught by anyone on this breezy day. Except Zuko, of course. “You haven’t been practicing your bending, have you.”

“Sure I have.”

“Your _firebending?_ Yeah, _sure_ you have.” Zuko shakes his head. “Okay. After me.” Breathing in and out, he hones his focus, centering his energy in his body until he knows exactly where every little bit is about to go. His fire licks out into the night air and touches a flower _just_ barely. And it lights.

Aang inhales, almost a gasp, and Zuko can’t help the hint of pride. 

“Now you.” Zuko gazes at the side of his face, and Aang back at him.

Holding his wrist, he touches the base of his palm. “Focus with me.”

Zuko and Aang breathe, in and out, together, meditative for a moment. Then Aang extends two fingers like he’s painting in the air. The wick of the flower just next to Zuko’s catches.

They burn together.

“You did it--”

“--I did it!” Aang laughs when they interrupt each other, then throws his arms around Zuko.

What can Zuko do but return his embrace? He hugs him tight for a moment, feeling his body lean into his. They can have this. They can be this.

“Let’s keep going?” But this time, Aang’s free hand slips into his as they trace the night in brilliant yellows.

It feels like the way they’re meant to be.

In no time at all, almost every flower left on the surface blazes bright, bobbing along on the placid night-black water.

“It’s so beautiful,” Aang whispers. A hush has fallen all around the lake. Peace. Dipping down towards the water, he cups a bloom in both hands. “Ouch! Haha, it’s hot--”

With a roll of the eyes that’s far too fond, Zuko blows out the flame, waits, then closes Aang’s fingers gently over it again.

Aang lifts his hand, flower pinched between two fingers, and he tucks the slightly-crushed lily behind Zuko’s ear.

“Is red my color?” Zuko rasps.

“You know it is.” Aang reaches up and strokes the scarred side of his face, and Zuko leans into it, eyes half-closed as those giving lips meet his.

Zuko’s arms pull Aang tight against him, and he kisses him with a sudden spark of hunger before he breaks away, wide-eyed at the strength of his emotion.

Then Aang crushes him close, a hand flying into his hair and knocking the flower to the ground, and they kiss and kiss, laughing breaths muddling lost lifetimes.

 

“Um, are Aang and Zuko kissing?” Ty Lee wonders.

Toph snorts. “Why wouldn’t they be?” She’s happy for the two. Really. She’s also really happy she’s not getting the eyeful Ty Lee is, and maybe she won’t have to bite her tongue so hard when their pulses race for each other anymore. Actually, she’ll get back to that one once she gets the wedding invite.

“Good point.” After a comfortable silence, Ty Lee murmurs to Toph, “I wish you could see the lights.” Apparently, a ceremony called the Lighting of the Lilies has begun. Maximum firebender nonsense, Toph would call it.

“Don’t.” Toph shrugs. “Can’t miss what I don’t know.”

“Well, then, I wish you could experience it with me.” Toph finds herself suckered by the very cute stomp of Ty Lee’s foot.

Bending, Toph stretches a careful hand out. She feels fire just under her palm. In every flower, she can sense pieces of dirt, shards of mineral. “Oh, believe me, I am.”

Ty Lee pushes something into her hand, and a moment’s turning over and fingers smoothing over its silky petals just for how soft it feels reveals that it’s a fire lily. “I mean, benders can’t have all the fun, right?”

“They have a lot of fun.”

An elbow to her side for that. 

A well-deserved ouch.

Ty Lee rummages in her travel bag. “See, the Kyoshi warriors have no firebenders among us, but we’re always prepared!” 

She touches a flint to Toph’s hand. 

Toph goes ahead and presses it back into her palm.

“Trust me.”

“When you say that, it makes me trust you less.”

A shrug against her shoulder, and Toph hears a quick strike. “Benders _don’t_ get to have all the fun.”

“Just most of it.” She has to admit, though, that Ty Lee is really fun. And she fights good, too. Toph isn’t seriously considering...is she? Those Kyoshi girls, man. Since Suki, she’s had to watch out for her heart around them. Imagine _visiting_ the place now. 

“Sometimes I wish I could, you know? Feel the elements, the way you guys do.” Ty Lee sounds wistful, and all right, Toph’s not gonna have that.

“It’s not that hard, fancy dancer,” Toph says in dismissal.

“Fancy dancer?” Ty Lee repeats with a giggle. She doesn’t sound displeased.

Time to trust. “That’s what you are.” Toph reaches, and Ty Lee places her hand in Toph’s right away. Turning their joined hands palm-down, she drifts them carefully over the heat of the flowers. And Ty Lee trusts her to do it, to bring down that hand of hers, callused where it isn’t petal-soft, so close it might singe.

She feels Ty Lee’s fingers curl. “Thanks for coming out with me today.” And she feels her lips at the corner of her mouth. “You wanna go out again?”

Toph sighs. “Okay. You got me.”

“I did?”

“You did.” She’s too reluctant to admit that her smile is not that reluctant. Toph’s really been got. Turning her palm over, she laces their fingers, keeps them moving together until they’ve gone from hovering over the fire on the water to pressing over the just-damp earth.

This is what unity between the nations is, right? Oh yeah. Toph _rocks_ international relations.


End file.
